We Are One
by Curse-Never-Dying
Summary: He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.


We Are One

Chapter One: My End and My Beginning

 _"For she had eyes and chose me."_

 _― William Shakespeare, Othello_

Nights are cold in Hueco Mundo.

And so, since it was always night in Hueco Mundo, it was always cold. A gnawing, biting cold that sapped the life from anyone not protected by either thick garments or the steely armor of _hierro_.

Ichigo Kurosaki was used to the cold, and he could honestly say that it didn't bother him anymore. He simply tossed a few more blankets on his cot, or struggled with a heating _kidō_ until it either worked or scorched his hands.

Tonight, he hadn't been able to get the _kidō_ working, and she wasn't there to help him, so he'd resorted to making a nest out of blankets. But even protected from the cold, he slept fitfully. There were always the nightmares about blood and steel and terrifying yellow eyes, but that wasn't what worried him. He'd had to learn to deal with those long ago. Real and present danger, both to him and, more importantly, to her, is what kept him awake at night.

He'd only just begun to drift off when the rustling of fabric jolted him from drowsing to wakefulness, and he scrabbled at his bedside for his _zanpakutō_. He hadn't thought anyone could find them here in the Negal Ruins, that surely this time they would be safe, even from Aizen's nigh-omnipotence. But the alarm hadn't been raised, and that meant -

Underneath the pale moonlight that poured through the gaps in the tent flap, he caught a glimpse of porcelain skin sliding underneath the covers next to him. Dark hair brushed against his face, and amethyst eyes gleamed in the darkness.

"I'm back. Did you miss me?"

Ichigo relaxed. She had returned safely, and that was all that mattered. He'd never forgive himself if one of Aizen's wandering patrols caught her, or - even worse – the Gotei Thirteen.

"Terribly," he answered, lips curving in a small smile. And it was the truth. She was all that he had left, and she was his everything.

He inhaled swiftly as he felt a pair of small, icy cold arms slip around his chest, and a petite figure press against his side. He rumbled his satisfaction, deep within his chest. She, for her part, sighed contentedly and tucked herself closer against him, her head cradled pillowed naturally in the crook of his arm.

He did not move at once, then, slowly, took a cold hand in his, lifted it gently, and pressed it against his lips. Cold lips pressed a soft kiss against his shoulder in response, causing him to shiver and close his eyes.

After a long moment, Ichigo rolled over to face her, sliding his hands up her smooth back, in awe of how silky her skin was beneath his calloused, battle-worn hands. Tight, corded muscled clenched and relaxed beneath that perfect skin, and now it was she who purred in contentment.

When he had finished his pseudo-massage, she propped herself up on one elbow and looked him in the eyes. Her hair, grown out longer than normal, formed a curtain around them, cutting them off from the outside world.

She gave him a long, slow, through kiss. It went on for as long as it needed to, and then it stopped. Why should they rush? It was entirely possible that this might be the last one they ever shared.

When she pulled away, she left a faint taste of mint and snow on his lips.

Ichigo reached up a hand to brush away the dark bangs, revealing the purple eyes that he so loved. He felt her shiver as he ran a thumb along the delicate lines of her cheekbones. For all that she was fiery and fierce and deadly in battle, she was still tiny and fragile.

Then she stuck her freezing feet underneath him, and he let out an unmanly squeak. Heavens forbid that Ikkaku or Renji ever heard it. He'd never live it down.

She laughed at his discomfort, her voice low, throaty and musical, as she wriggled deeper into the sheets and blankets.

He allowed himself to savor her company for a little longer before groaning and sitting up. A slender arm wrapped around his chest and tried to pull him back down.

He wanted to let her, so very badly. But Duty called, and he wasn't going to risk her life just because he wanted to stay in bed.

"I can't, Rukia. I've got to go. You know the rules – one of us has to be on guard at all times."

"I know," she whispered, nibbling at his ear, her breath raising goosebumps. "I know. Just stay with me a while until I fall asleep, love. It's lonely here, in this eternal emptiness."

He stayed.

* * *

Traditionally, the enemy attacked at dawn.

Aizen wasn't big on tradition, from what Ichigo gathered. He preferred functionality. Oh, and treason, too.

There was also the fact that Hueco Mundo never saw dawn, save within the walls of Las Noches.

So instead, Aizen timed his attacks (Ichigo later inferred) based upon the watch schedule. There were only the two of them now, so they rotated on nine-hour watches, with a three hour overlap where both were awake.

Aizen had eyes everywhere in Hueco Mundo, and he knew everything. More than once, Ichigo's ragtag band of guerillas had been caught completely off guard by the man's uncannily precise knowledge of their shift changes, secret plans, and location.

That was why only Ichigo and Rukia were left.

A less experienced leader might have chosen to attack while only one was on guard, hoping to catch his enemies asleep. Aizen was smarter than that, though – he knew from experience that the one on guard would inevitably manage to raise the alarm, enabling the other one to escape.

Alternatively, he could attack while both of them were up, both a little tired from their daily exertions a lack of sleep, looking forwards to a meal. That way, he could catch both of them, though he'd likely lose more than he would otherwise.

Aizen didn't care about the hollows that had pledged themselves to him. They were merely tools intended to achieve a very particular goal, and he was more than happy to spend their blood like water.

* * *

The only warning Ichigo and Rukia had was a faint rumbling in the earth, which shook the water in the Hollow mask that was simmering over a _kidō_ flame. They'd been hoping to make a stew, but any hope of that was shattered as the water splashed out of the mask and was lapped up by the thirsty ground.

Ichigo had made it halfway up from the fallen pillar he'd been sitting on, and had drawn Zangetsu when the first Hollow-Wyrm exploded from the earth.

Rukia wasn't quite as quick as he was, and she lost the edge of her robe to the Wyrm's hungry jaws. The massive Hollow screeched in frustration when the robe tore, and snapped at her with its secondary mouth.

Ichigo was at Rukia's side in a blur of Flash-Step, twirling Zangetsu by its wrappings. He whipped the sword forward, propelling it with both the momentum of his Flash-Step and its own momentum. It clashed against his opponent's _hierro_ before drilling through the beast's head.

It collapsed to the ground, and the corpse began to bubble ominously.

"To the temple," Ichigo growled, shielding his wife with his body. "Quickly! We'll have the best chance of holding them off there."

She nodded once, and then they were gone, the sands of Hueco Mundo swirling in their wake.

The instant they were gone, reality screamed as its fabric was forced apart to facilitate the passing of a being of incomprehensible power and nigh-omniscience.

A white sandal touched down on the sands of the Negal Ruins, and the heavens and earth fled from that touch.

* * *

Ichigo didn't really know what the Negal Ruins were, apart from a bunch of, you know, ruins. Kisuke Urahara had told him about the place, and _he_ hadn't known either. Maybe the Captain-General or one of the older Captains knew about it, but they weren't going to be inclined to tell him.

Ichigo and Rukia had explored the ruins only a few days before, during their customary inspection of all potential escape routes from their camp. Near as they could tell, the place was a city-fortress like the Seretei. The entire city was dominated by a massive, crumbling building that was built far back into chalk-white mountains behind the city. They called it the temple, for lack of a better term, and it was where they planned to make their last stand. Ichigo was confident that he could hold off the Hollows at least long enough for Rukia to escape.

Unless, of course, _he_ came.


End file.
